


Dying of the Light

by cantletgo, StarsAreMyOcean



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies), Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 01:01:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10321958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cantletgo/pseuds/cantletgo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarsAreMyOcean/pseuds/StarsAreMyOcean
Summary: After four years of training to become part of the elite group of soldiers known as Jaeger pilots, Yuuri returns home in disgrace after failing his early trails. Not long after his return, he helplessly watched as his hometown of Hasetsu was laid to waste by the vicious predators known as the Kaiju. Legendary Ranger Viktor Nikiforov and his co-pilot save Yuuri and his family from certain death. In that moment, Yuuri vows to train harder than ever to get into the conn-pod of a Jaeger and destroy the Kaiju.Pacific Rim/Yuri!!! on Ice AU.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is an ongoing Pacific Rim/Yuri!!! on Ice AU RP fic that will bounce between both Viktor's and Yuuri's perspectives.

Long, elegant fingers clad in tight leather carefully reached around the head of their owner. They gently inched along the smooth surface of the helmet, in an almost meditative manner. After circling spots just behind where his ears would be, they located two small depressions and pushed hard. Viktor felt his ears pop as the pressurized seal of the pilot suit was broken. He could still feel the presence of his co-pilot lingering on the edge of his consciousness. Breathing deeply, he closed his eyes as he removed the helmet. Moments later, his senses were assaulted by the sights and sounds of the hangar: the humming of electronics, grating of metal, shouts between engineers.

Seventeen.

It was their seventeenth kill and Viktor could see no end in sight. Attacks seemed to be happening with more frequency and the Kaiju were only getting stronger. Deep down, he was almost afraid of the day when the Kaiju might again become king. Shaking his head he shooed the thought away, not daring to indulge its dark reality. Each passing day wore him down just a bit more. He no longer fought with the same gusto as when he first became a Jaeger pilot. Viktor held up his right hand, turning it forward and backward, opening and closing his fingers, watching the delicate way they moved. Their Jaeger had lost its right arm in this last battle and it had been a most bizarre sensation.

“ _ Hoi _ , Viktor!” Christophe called out to Viktor. He had finished talking with their head engineer about the damage they had sustained. “You warming up your hand for something or what?” he tossed his arm over Viktor’s shoulder grinning wildly.

“You only wish Chris. Not interested today,” Viktor shrugged Chris’ arm off his shoulder putting a calculated distance between them. “What did Bishop say about Stark Enigma?”

“Ever focused. We’re going to be down for at least two weeks, he needs to import some parts.  _ C’est la vie. _ I’m looking forward to a little pleasure time,” he mischievously winked.

“Do you ever grow tired of this?” Viktor’s normally calm facade broke at Chris’ response. The man had a singularly tracked mind.

“Of our little game?” Yes, there was that. Though it might have been the breaking point for Viktor, that was not where his thoughts were presently focused.

“Of the fighting Chris. I feel differently now than when you and I started piloting. Started destroying these creatures.” He closed the recently added space, lowering his voice to a commanding whisper, “I need time away from the front lines to find me again. Each day I feel more a part of that machine,” he gestured to their battered Jaeger.

“Yakov’s not to be happy to hear you say you’re stepping out,” his formerly jovial tone was replaced with one of mock concern. The both of them knew exactly how Yakov would react to the news and Chris was already gearing up for the entertainment that reaction would provide.

“Have I ever done what Yakov wanted when or the way he wanted?” Viktor cocked his head sideways, casting a feeble smile at his soon-to-be ex-partner, “I’m not leaving the Corps, just taking some time off from piloting. I’ll find some other way to help the cause, find my humanity again.”

With a warm sigh, Christophe touched the bottom of Viktor’s chin, “ _ Bärli _ , I don’t like that you are abandoning me, but do what you need. I’ll find a way to continue without you.” With those simple words, it was over. Neither of them had ever been much for sentimentality: everything they did, on and off the battlefield, had been purely primal.

A deep longing to survive, to conquer.

\---

“What do you mean you’re done piloting!!!” Deep, booming howls echoed around Yakov’s command center.

“I thought I might try something differe--” He was abruptly cut off by a red-faced Yakov.

“Something different would be you doing something that doesn’t make me reconsider being sober!” The husky man slammed his elbows on the desk, thrusting his face into open palms. “ _ Vitya _ ...what am I to do with this?” The muffled cries quite a contrast to the yelling mere seconds before.

“Find new pilot? I’ll help. I’m sure with my charm I can find you someone perfect.” Viktor placed his hands against his cheeks, radiating all the cheer and happiness he could muster. Distant fingers parted to reveal one glaring eye, not buying what Viktor was trying to sell.

“That is what I am afraid of. That whoever you find to replace you would drive me just as insane.” Heavily sighing, the man looked to the ceiling. “Find someone that can work with Christophe. And you better find a way to positively spin this announcement. It will be on every news channel within twenty-four hours…I can already hear the headline, ‘Top Ranger in Pan Pacific Defense Corps Steps Down, Russian Fleet Hurting’. That kind of press does not help us.”

“What does help is that I have legions of fans who know of my proclivity for wild antics. I will find a way to make this work Yakov.” He was cautiously optimistic. This was something he needed to do.

\---

By 10:00 the next day, every soul in the Vladivostok Shatterdome knew of Viktor’s departure from Jaeger piloting. Hushed whispers and looks of terror plagued the inhabitants of the facility. Yakov had demanded he make a public statement about his decision to attempt to assuage the fears of his people, and others around the globe.

A rumbling murmur caught his attention. He had been awake for nearly four hours and hadn’t eaten in that time. The world could wait. His stomach could not.

Turning a corner, the pungent aroma of boiled cabbage wafted from the mess hall. It was a pleasing smell to him, one that reminded him of his youth before his world was violently taken from him. He was delighted to see the chef sliding freshly made  _ golubtsy _ onto plates. Memories of making the rolls with his mother danced through Viktor’s mind.  Placing hearty scoops of meat on the boiled leaves and watching his mother fold them into tight logs before gingerly layering them in a large pot. Him inhaling the smells of cabbage, meat, and tomato sauce as he eagerly waited for the food to finish cooking.

He knew many of his compatriots did not share his love of the meal, as evidenced by the looks of disdain and choked expressions as they attempted to work their way through every bite. A gentle smile crept across his face as he started to eat. It paled in comparison to his mother’s cooking, but it was a small reminder of life before this war.

And just the mental boost he needed to get through this press conference.

* * *

The studio was silent as Yuuri Katsuki moved fluidly around the mat. The sound of his ki-yap echoed with every deadly punch landing in the ice cold Japanese winter air. It didn’t matter that the dojo was poorly insulated or that the shuttered windows had frost on the  _ inside _ , he was here to work. 

Months of devastating Kaiju attacks kept Yuuri and his family on their toes. The Kaiju, large, unearthly, and toxic beasts designed specifically with the intent of wiping out all of humankind, were moving further and further inland. Destruction lurked around every corner. 

Another punch. Slide. Jump. Twist. Hook kick. Yuuri’s toes were kept extremely straight, in perfect form hanging in the air, testing his balance. Standing as sturdy as a tree stump on his left leg, Yuuri’s nose was merely inches from the ground, right leg still wrapped in a hook kick above. His body was a well-oiled machine. A single bead of sweat splat on the ground as the doors of the dojo ripped open with a loud-

“YUUUUUUUURRIIIIIIIIIII come! Quick!” The log-like balance gave way allowing his face to quickly greet the mat with a grunt. 

“Oye, Yuuko-san,  _ I was just _ -” Yuuri could barely get a cry rattled off before the blistering cold successfully infiltrated the Ice Castle and seized his body. His teeth rattled dramatically as he rose to his knees, placing his hands gently on his thighs. While he’d been taught this position as a sign of respect throughout his years of martial arts training, he also found it to be a source of mental strength. He willed his body to find it’s warmth and continued moving towards his coat. 

“Hurry! You’re missing it!” Yuuko-san, one of Yuuri’s best friends growing up and now owner of the Ice Castle, disappeared in the blizzard as quickly as she had came. The ominous cloud of white shrouded her in as much mystery as her words.

Messy raven-black hair fell unceremoniously into his eyes as he hung his head. A shine from his glasses cut through the shadow fanning over his face as they reflected in the daylight. A sign to move forward. Yuuri rose. 

The snow crunched beneath his feet, hot gasps of breath fogging his glasses. Down the street and across the bridge he could hear nothing but stone cold silence and the beating of his anxious heart. Yuuko-san hadn’t been much further ahead and yet she disappeared almost instantaneously like an illusion. 

An  _ illusion _ . 

Yuuri stopped breathless at the end of the bridge, his gloved hand catching roughly on the wood. There should have been  _ something _ , some kind of sound. His knees buckled and sweat dripped down his ice cold back. His hands began to tremble and his eyesight started to fade. Black crept around the edges of his vision. 

“Yuuri!” The only sound that could be heard and this time it came in unison. The soft nurturing voices of Yuuri’s mother and father broke through the crowd. The familiar ring of his name on the lips of Minako, Yuuri’s former sensei, trembled through the air offbeat and somewhat close. 

“I’m here!” He gasped, at a loss for breath. His lungs constricted forcing him to release a throat searing cough. 

To his surprise, as his gaze lifted, the white snow had turned to ash. Black specs fell to the ground and tainted the serenity of his hometown of Hasetsu. The pieces stuck and hung in his lungs as the snow beneath his knees began to melt.  

_ Why? _ He thought furiously. The anxious calls turned to screams of pain with the battle cry of a Kaiju roaring through the sleepy winter town. Every ounce of Yuuri ripped forward with unearthly speed as the bridge beneath him began to fall into the water. As if by some act of God, the bridge began to extend so he couldn’t reach the end no matter how hard he ran. His legs pumped harder. His feet grasped for any hold in the melted runny snow. 

_ Where was I when they needed me? _ He thought.  _ Behind the scenes when I should have been on the front lines. But no, every chance I had to prove myself as a pilot, I flubbed. And now my town is left defenseless, my family, my friends… _

Yuuri made one last heroic effort to jump forward to the safety of the solid earth. The wood beneath his feet finally gave in, pulling everything down with it. Yuuri’s head snapped back as he fell towards the ice cold waters of the Hasetsu bay. With his last glance towards the sky he saw the horrible beast for the first time outside of a textbook or TV screen. The Kaiju killing machine roared with a renewed sense of power and purpose as it ripped apart everything Yuuri had once called home.

\---

“Yuuri!” The voice was gruff but baited. “Yuuri, it’s time to go.” Solid hands shook his shoulders and pulled Yuuri from the fall as he sat up with a shock. The feeling of falling in a dream, or  _ nightmare _ , was one Yuuri would never get used to. It didn’t matter how many times the nightmare came, once a day or twice a week, it still somehow managed to surprise him. With terror and feelings of failure, Yuuri wiped his crusty eyes and traced the dried tear stains that ran down the side of his cheeks. 

“The press conference starts in an hour, but we’ll be in transit when it begins. Get your gear and grab your belongings, you’re being transferred.” Celestino’s voice was kind as soon as he recognized the wake the nightmare had left. 

“We’re leaving Michigan?” Yuuri asked tentatively, his mind still playing catch up. 

“You’ve been reassigned.” Yuuri had been with his coach, Celestino, for the past five years. In the wake of his last failed placement as a pilot, he’d let Yuuri return home. The moment had become make or break, to continue on as a soldier with the Confederate Army or go back to work in his lazy hot springs hometown of Hatsetsu.    
“Reassigned?”

“Someone saw your practice tapes and called you into homebase back in Japan. Next shuttle leaves in thirty.” 

As Celestino rose to leave his long brown-taupe ponytail swung gracefully behind him. If Yuuri would remember anything from his time training with his mentor in Michigan it would be that ponytail. And that ponytail was the last thing he saw as he walked out the door. It would be the last thing Yuuri remembered of his time  _ before _ ...

Before Viktor that is.


End file.
